Change Is Always The Fashion
by The Seventh L
Summary: The Doctor goes sightseeing and Ace gets dressed for colder weather in something awfully familiar. Seven/Ace.


A proper holiday, he had told Ace. A break away from all of the violence and warfare and general craziness, that was what he had promised. And where did they end up? On the dreary surface of a bloody forever-winter planet, all snow and ice and grey skies stretching out for miles on end. In other words, not a good holiday spot at all. Looking at the planet on the scanner's viewing screen, Ace could not help but scowl at their latest destination and start to severely regret getting out of bed that morning.

"Oh look, Ace! Snow!" the Doctor said unhelpfully with a grin. "That ought to be fun to play in."

"If you're ten years old," Ace grumbled. She watched unhappily as the Doctor started bundling up in the overcoat and long wooly scarf hanging from the hat rack. His own clothes seemed to dwarf the man wearing them; blue eyes peeked out brightly between the brim of his Panama hat and the stripes of his oddly lengthy scarf.

"Cheer up, Ace," the Doctor chided her lightly. "And dress up more warmly - your bomber jacket is much too thin for the weather of Nevica in the summer."

"Bloody hell, that's summer?"

"Yes. Now go on, off to the wardrobe with you!" He did not seem to notice the unwilling look on Ace's face as he pushed the girl in the direction of said room before bouncing off with his umbrella to go explore outside. Still, she shuffled off down the twisting white corridors into the wardrobe but not before sticking her tongue out at the Doctor's back as it disappeared through the open doors and into the swirling snow of Nevica's powder-covered fields.

The wardrobe, as usual, was humongous beyond belief, as if all the costume wardrobes of every theatre group across the universe had converged to put their different outfits and knick-knacks in one room. It would have been a fun thing to explore but since she just wanted something in particular, the expanse of hangers and clothing racks was more of a nuisance to the long-suffering companion currently wandering through it.

Ace shrugged out of her beloved bomber jacket and draped it over a nearby eighteenth-century French armchair covered in red and black paisley, like the Doctor's scarf. Without thinking, she shivered; she wondered how a draft was coming in and blowing through her thin t-shirt when the wardrobe was so far away from the - no, wait, she told herself, don't even bother trying to figure out how the rooms in the TARDIS work, you'll just end up with a walloping headache in the end.

There was a massive amount of turtleneck sweaters - all strangely enough paired with tartan kilts. There was no way in hell she was traipsing around in the snow in a sweater and kilt, so that entire rack of clothing was quickly nixed. Lots of dresses of various shapes and sizes, all of which Ace quickly shoved aside; memories of her latest trip to the Chase mansion had her swearing off fancy dress for good. Definitely nothing with skirts.

"Ace, hurry up!" The Doctor's voice drifted into the wardrobe from outside and she reached for the nearest non-girly thing next to her to shut him up - and groaned.

"Gordon Bennet, Professor, you have more than one?" And then she smirked like an imp as she thought of something amusing she could do.

With that, she quickly started getting undressed.

. . .

Nevica in the summertime was very beautiful and very cold - which was natural for a planet suspended in eternal winter. Sunlight broke through the grey clouds in shy shafts of pale blue; it seemed they had landed in the middle of the plains, surrounded by a range of white cliffs and, in the far flung distance, snow-capped mountains raising high into the hazy stratosphere. The Doctor stepped one foot forward over a low ridge and into a deep snowy draft, landing ankle-deep in the white stuff. For a moment he did not seem to notice the layers of snow soaking into his sock, he was so deep into his usual moody introspection on life and war and tea and other nebulous things. The cry of a blue-frosted seagull making lazy pirouettes overhead soon brought the Doctor out of his thoughts and back into reality.

He managed to pull himself out of the snow and shake the flakes off his leg before realizing he was no longer alone. Yes, there was definitely someone else around, crunching noisily across the planet's surface. The Time Lord wondered idly how often it snowed in Perivale before turning around to face himself. No, not himself, but definitely someone in his clothes.

There was Ace, who had clearly ditched her usual bomber jacket and patterned shirt for something much more protective against the cold - and very much not her style. One hand was continually pulling back the dark massive overcoat from closing and swallowing her up; the other kept pulling awkwardly at the braces of her new tartan trousers. Underneath was a pullover remarkably like the Doctor's except that the color scheme was flip-flopped. She stomped through the snow in an old laced up pair of green Kickers that she had found near a monstrosity of a patchwork coat near the back of the wardrobe; they were certainly more adequate than the Doctor's own wingtip brogues for sloshing through Nevica's typical weather.

"Professor!"

The Doctor responded by simply waving her over, watching with an amused look as she continued to stomp a path to his side through the thickly-laid snow.

When she reached him, Ace doffed the Panama hat in an imitation of the Doctor's usual greeting. "This warm enough for you, Professor?"

He smiled, his blue eyes shining in the emerging sunlight. "Looks like it."

"So, what is it about Nevica that you wanted to show me?"

"Isn't this enough?"

"Professor . . ."

"Oh, all right." The Doctor gave his companion's nose a gentle tweak. "Follow me."

The sky twisted above them in hues of blue and yellow. The Doctor's voice rose alone above the sound of their footsteps through the softly falling snow. "Just over that crest is one of the frozen oceans of Nevica.

The surface of the ocean is dense enough to walk across and underneath its surface is a collection of living luminous gases that respond to surrounding lifeforms by changing colors. Do you hear that?"

Ace strained to hear anything. She could hear a low humming sound that bent in the wind with every note. "What is that?"

"That," said the Doctor, "is the ocean's song." And then he grinned. "Did I mention penguins like to go skating across the ocean's surface?"

She laughed. "Honestly, Professor, sometimes you're just too much."

"Well, does that mean you don't want to go and see?"

Ace reached out and pulled the Doctor's scarf up over his nose. "I'll race you," she dared him and in seconds she was flying across the snow in the direction of the ocean, snow spraying up in her path.

He watched her go for a moment, wondering what on earth possessed his companion to dress like that, before sprinting after her, his scarf flapping behind him like multicolor wings. He had promised Ace a proper holiday and he would give her one - and maybe, somehow, get to know the young woman underneath the stolen sweater vest a little better. And then some.

The cold aurora lights lit up the summer sky as the two of them crashed into each other and they fell over each other, laughing, as they passed over the ridge.


End file.
